How I Unraveled 26 Years of Narcissist Abuse

Through this confusing, painful, humiliating mess, I learned the truth: they didn’t abuse me because I am pathetic or worthless, but because I have so much to offer.

Note: This article contains brief descriptions of emotional and physical abuse.

Last summer, I sat on my bedroom floor with a guitar and notebook composing lyrics to express myself: “Over all these years, I shared with you. I gave you my heart, watched it all fall apart. Over all these years, I trusted you. I really believed you would love me too.”

For decades I clung to the hope that they would love me if only I pushed myself hard enough to earn it. Then I discovered two close family members have a narcissistic personality disorder.

Since childhood, I stretched and morphed myself hoping to feel seen, wanted, and loved by these people. I earned straight A’s through high school and college, studied classical piano for ten years, worked out religiously, and crafted an impressive resume. I broke into one of the hottest tech industries and worked at two of the world’s largest companies. It wasn’t enough. I spent years devouring self-help books and practicing communication techniques, trying to be a better person.

Nothing calmed my secret fear: something is wrong with me.

I had seen therapists in the past, but this time I connected with a trauma specialist. Thank God this woman helped me identify signs of narcissistic abuse in my family. I grew up with two narcissists: one covert and one overt*. Regardless of our efforts, most narcissists don’t experience real love or empathy; these are one-sided relationships. I realized why I often felt drained: I was the only one working on our relationship.

*Coverts show passive-aggressive and self-effacing behaviors; they seem humble. Overt narcissists display loud, arrogant behaviors and flaunt their grandiose self-image.

Reviewing early memories, I saw the emotional abuse patterns. The people I depended on and believed loved me often called me “stupid,” “an idiot,” and “a whore” as early as 13 years old. They criticized my creative expressions, yelled at me in front of others, openly belittled my opinions and vulnerabilities, and actively persuaded me that I was incapable of surviving without them. They mixed abuse with “I love you,” “I want what’s best for you,” and “I’m protecting you.”

This insidious, soul-damaging abuse makes people question their reality and basic instincts. Only people with first-hand narcissist abuse experience can understand the depth of pain, confusion, and embarrassment victims live with daily. Pathology experts estimate somewhere between 60 and 150 million people experience narcissist abuse in the U.S. alone.

Nine months into my healing journey, I still struggle with owning my self-worth, trusting my intuition, and setting boundaries. But now I know the truth of what happened. They didn’t abuse me because I am pathetic or worthless; they used me because I have so much to offer.

Understanding symptoms of narcissist abuse

Like a car accident, the discovery happens suddenly. You never expect it will happen to you. Then it does. You realize the people you loved have abused you horribly. Deep down, you believed you deserved it. I felt shaken, disoriented. I had to learn how to survive, heal, and move forward. Healing seemed impossible, overwhelming, and often hopeless.

Like most, when I made the discovery, I was already experiencing depression. I experienced stress and anxiety daily, burning out at a tech job I had worked hard to get. Most of my relationships at the time were shallow or toxic; I carried heavy loneliness. Thankfully, I saved enough money to take time off. That’s when I dove into shadow work or “depth therapy” and made the discovery.

Most people don’t understand the depth of narcissist abuse. I looked pretty healthy; no one could see my gaping, freshly-opened inner wounds. This lack of awareness makes validation difficult. Yet, you desperately need to know that you’re not crazy.

I spent a lot of time untangling the knots from decades of memories. In “The Wizard of Oz and Other Narcissists,” Eleanor Payson shares a list of abuse symptoms:

• Excess stress
• Chronic anger
• Depression
• Low self-esteem or feeling inadequate
• Questioning your mental health
• Desperate for acceptance or acknowledgment
• Use of escape mechanisms, compulsive or addictive behaviors

From a young age, I experienced a wide variety of compulsive, destructive behaviors that I now identify as perfectionism. I dabbled in many addictions: eating far too much sugar, over-eating, watching TV in binges, drinking excess alcohol, and over-working. I sometimes used sex to validate my self-worth or took drugs to feel connected. During a few low points of depression, I forced myself to throw up the food I’d just eaten and cut my arms till I bled.

As I held a sharp blade to my skin, I remember thinking: No one understands how much I’m hurting. But I feel so much pain. My pain is real.

Healing from narcissist abuse

A few months before discovering narcissist abuse, I knew something was wrong with those relationships. Determined to create healthy dynamics, I primed my family members for an “intervention-esque” visit where I bravely shared that I had been struggling emotionally. Maybe they didn’t understand how much their behaviors hurt me.

True to their nature, they belittled my experience, dismissed my emotions, and shamed me for my “sudden outburst.” Then they hugged me tightly, put their arm over my shoulder when I cried, and expressed vague intentions to improve our relationship. It was a painful disaster.

Lara Novack, a narcissist abuse survivor, thriver, and life coach, shared common recovery mistakes in an abuse support group:

• Seeking validation from the unhealthy person(s) about the reality of the abuse
• Telling the narcissist how you feel and expecting them to finally get it
• Never removing your focus from the narcissist
• Waiting for someone else to change
• Thinking that someone else has a role in your recovery
• Waiting for an apology (the most common)

Over the last year, I made several of these mistakes. As an empath, I saw empathy as the solution. But narcissists don’t experience empathy as we do.

I wanted them to understand how broken I felt, but the abusers can’t help you heal from abuse. Like a physical wound, you have to heal yourself. Your abusers will not validate the reality of the abuse.

Seeing the silver lining in narcissist abuse

Though I have experienced emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, I am a persistent optimist. During the first few months after discovery, I thought: There has to be a bright side. There must be some hope I can cling to.

Then I heard a message I latched onto, holding tightly for comfort: The abusers chose you because you are an energy source. They see you as valuable.

Narcissist abuse has some beautiful silver linings. Debbie Mirza, author of “The Covert Passive Aggressive Narcissist,” describes victims as highly energetic, empathetic, intelligent, strong, loving, intuitive, and passionate people. They targeted us because we have so much to offer.

These days, I finally see myself, including the parts I buried in my shadows.

Yes, I have been a victim of narcissist abuse. But I am so much more than that. I possess undeniable, powerful resilience. Though my abusers tried to convince me I am small, I know they are the small ones. I am the charismatic, original, courageous, persistent, passionate, visionary, and compassionate one.

Walking away from this abuse has made me ten times wiser, more aware, free, and empowered to be unapologetically myself. I no longer see myself through the lens of someone who feels worthless. Instead, I pour my admiration directly onto myself where it belongs.

“There is nothing stronger than a broken woman who has rebuilt herself,” said Hannah Gadsby, a brave Australian comedian. Watching her “Nanette” stand-up show, I cried for about 30 minutes. She’s right. We need to learn how to receive vulnerability and use connection to heal.

Closing thoughts

Building self-compassion may be what has helped me the most along this journey. Over 70% of people treat themselves more harshly than others, according to Dr. Kristen Neff’s research on self-compassion.

Though I used to isolate and judge myself, I learned that shame grows when we are silent or judge our feelings. I no longer live with shame and guilt for taking up space or talking about abuse.

Unlike the messages I grew up with, vulnerability is the opposite of weakness; it’s strength. I share vulnerable stories because vulnerability heals.

Here are some more steps that have helped me — and others — heal:

• Work with a trauma therapist: These people are trained in narcissism and can help you identify and validate the signs of abuse.
• Find a support group: Being around people who have had similar experiences is the most validating thing you can do for yourself.
• Learn about narcissism: I read books, articles, and other online resources. I took tons of notes. I got specific about how they abused me and ways to avoid future abuse.
• Get the hate out: I believe creative, emotional expression heals us, so does Julia Cameron and Amanda Palmer. You don’t have to be an “Artist” to express yourself.
• Focus on the next step: You don’t have to know how you’re going to make it through this. You just have to create momentum one step at a time.

“If you don’t deal with your demons, they go into the cellar of your soul and lift weights.” — Amanda Palmer.

I’m dealing with my demons, and I feel free.

Thank you for reading! If you aren’t already a Medium member, join with my referral link — Alice Crady. A portion of your fee goes to writers you read. Subscribe to my account if you’d enjoy regular inspiration and empowerment along your self-actualization journey.

More on abuse recovery: